


taking advantage of a good situation

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Making Out, Prompt Fic, thats all this fic is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: “I’ve got an idea,” he states, because it must not have been obvious. Shiro, still unsure, doesn’t move, so Lance guides him. “Just go with it. Trust me?"Shiro doesn’t even hesitate to nod.--Anonymous said:Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys





	taking advantage of a good situation

**Author's Note:**

> old fic prompt that needed to be uploaded
> 
>  
> 
> [[originally uploaded here]](http://cryingovershance.tumblr.com/post/175364109079/needing-to-kiss-to-hide-from-bad-guys)

Ducking into the empty alleyway, Lance doubles over and clutches at his chest. They’re both panting hard and he can almost  _feel_  Shiro sucking in air beside him. Still, he knows they don’t have a lot of time, and that like this they’ll be caught. They’re out of bullets and outnumbered and running out of time. He has to come up with something quick. 

 

He gives himself only until he can actually breathe well enough to talk before he wheezes out, “Here,” and walks Shiro up against a wall.

 

Reaching up for Shiro’s hoodie, he ignores the  _what are you–_  that spills out, confused. He pulls the hood up over Shiro’s hair and edges between him and the wall. “I’ve got an idea,” he states, because it must not have been obvious. Shiro, still unsure, doesn’t move, so Lance guides him. “Just go with it. Trust me?”

 

Shiro doesn’t even hesitate to nod, despite his eyebrows furrowing, dark eyes tracking every movement Lance makes.

 

That warms something in Lance’s chest, which he pushes past as he slides his hand around the back of Shiro’s head and pulls him in to press their lips together. Shiro is completely still, so Lance uses his other hand, now on Shiro’s hip, to tug him in further. “Bend down a little,” he breathes against Shiro’s mouth, not really kissing him, just there. “My neck hurts.”

 

That, and they need this to look good. They need it to work. 

 

That spurs Shiro into action and he curls into Lance, hands coming forward, one to hold at his side, the other one on the outside of his thigh. His mouth starts to work as well, pressing in and breathing out, breaths quick and hot against Lance’s skin. He steps even closer, slipping a leg between Lance’s own. 

 

Lance chokes, feels his eyes widen to the point of a little watering at this, at how quickly Shiro seemed to get with the program, but… he’s always been smart. Quick to learn. And to catch on, apparently. So he brushes his surprise away and let his grip convulse against Shiro before he starts to slip his fingers up the back of Shiro’s shirt. Shiro almost seems to push in a little, fingers tightening on his leg. 

 

Then, Shiro breaks off from the kiss, beginning to pull back, and Lance thinks,  _did they already pass us?_  Damn, he didn’t even realize, didn’t hear them.

 

Except.

 

Shiro doens’t pull away. Instead he kisses the corner of Lance’s mouth. Then the side of his chin. Along his jaw. Under it, until he gets to Lance’s neck. That’s where he gently licks over it before pressing an open kiss to it and  _sucking_.

 

Lance makes a small sound and Shiro sucks harder. He tilts his head to the side to give Shiro more room and he hears a quiet sound of approval at it. His head spins and the hand that was holding the back of Shiro’s head falls to cup his neck, squeezing. His other hand slides completely up into Shiro’s shirt, exploring the large expanse of hot skin there. It traces his spine, feels every inch of skin, every dip and bone. 

 

He’s about halfway up his back when Shiro uses his hold on Lance’s leg to lift it up, curl it around his own. It pushes them closer, which forces Lance more up the wall, relying more on it to keep him up than the foot, barely still on the ground. He grunts, but then there’s heat, lower. He’s already warm, warm all over, in his face, along his neck, on his fingers, through his stomach and dripping lower. But Shiro presses in and Lance feels it, burning, hot, even through his pants and he’s gasping at it, at the bite Shiro is marking into him, at –

 

“Good news,” a voice crackles into their ear piece, something long forgotten. “The tracking devices work, so we know where they’re headed. They’ve passed you now, it should be safe to go.”

 

Shiro has pulled back, but he’s just staring at Lance, and his eyes are so wide, so dark, so encompassed by his pupils. He’s breathing through his mouth and his inhales are like rips through the air that Lance can feel. He lifts his hand, the one that had been on Lance’s side, up to his ear to make sure his mic picks up the sound. Licking his reddened lips, he doesn’t break eye contact. “Affirmative, Pidge.” His thumb traces back and forth over Lance’s hipbone and it takes a lot not to squirm at the sensitivity. “Give us a second; we’ll be right there.”


End file.
